The Pool and the Locket
by Salivour
Summary: I'm only half aware that I should be panicking, but I can't, not when my brain is occupied by the single, swinging locket hovering beautifully in the water.


The ornate locket glints in the water as the moonlight dances across it, I've almost forgotten that it is a horcrux, swings back and forth before my eyes, pulling my attention towards it. I can't form a coherent thought, other than that I'm beginning to feel sick. A gnawing in my stomach as my eyes relentlessly follow the locket. Back and forth. Back and forth. I can't feel my own body, only half aware of myself. I try to open my mouth to ask something - I couldn't say what - but I'm not sure if I manage to or not. I'm only half aware that I should be panicking, but I can't, not when my brain is occupied by the single, swinging locket hovering beautifully in the water.

It almost feels as though the serpent carved of emerald begins to move, locking my eyes with it's own. I can hear faint murmurs, coming from the locket. Where else? That's all that exists. Not the sword, not the water surrounding me. I'm not even sure if I exist, trapped as I am. There's a dull ache in my chest trying to remind me of something. Of breathing? Of air? But I can't leave the gaze of the locket.

My mind struggles against itself, trying to remember and understand. The word horcrux stirs in my mind, desperately trying to find something to cling to and make itself understood. There was a sword, something special about it. It was going to destroy the horcrux. But why would I want to destroy the locket? That's all that exists. Silly. Go home.

I blink. A simple action, but it seems to take an age against the water surrounding me. Haven't I blinked in all this time? But that's all I need for everything to rush back. Horcrux. Sword. Voldemort. Locket. I'm terrified now of making eye contact with that tiny emerald snake again. I almost want to challenge it or did I want to slip back into it's embrace? I'm not sure, all I'm sure of is the pain in my chest. I'm gasping, desperately hoping the direction I'm trying to struggle towards is up. I can't remember panicking like this before. I'm not even aware of nicking my foot on the sword as I thrash in the water, and I can almost hear Hermione telling me to calm down and think, but I just can't.

A hand wraps around my arm, yanking me up. I'm soon being pulled up by my chest, gasping for breaths on the cold ground. I'm shivering, as the other person pulls my robes around me, trying to get me warm.

"Blimey, mate," he says, "What were you thinking, going in like that?"

I shrug, trying to just get my thoughts straight and calm down. I realise it must be Ron. I've got a weird desire to punch him. But I end up just standing there, looking at the surface of the small pool. He's looking at me, a steadying hand on my shoulder.

"Did you get it?" he asks tentatively, "You know, get the..."

I glance at him, catching his eye properly for the first time. He frowns at me, wrapping an arm closer, "You alright, mate?"

I shake my head, but I'm not yet sure if it's because I didn't get the sword and locket or because I'm not alright at all. My head's still not clear. But Ron seems to understand. He uses the arm around my shoulders to begin to steer me. I follow my own feet, barely registering what's happening.

"She hasn't been practising those birds, has she?" he jokes as we walk slowly towards the tent. I answer with a fleeting smile that's more like a grimace and he seems to understand sobering up, "Look mate, I'm sorry I left. I was a - a -"

"That's fine," I cut in. Oh look, I'm forming words now.

He nods and goes silent as the tent comes into view. Hermione must be sleeping in the tent. I can't seem to go further in and just stand in the entrance, pulling my robe closer around me and shivering. I'm aware now that I've left my shoes behind, the ground's uncomfortable and my feet are cold. Ron creeps up to Hermione's bunk, and gently touches her shoulder. He gives her a shake, "Hermione?" He's nervous.

She stirs in her sleep, her bushy hair falling over her face, bleary eyes blinking at Ron. She rubs her eyes, looking like she's still sleeping. "What happened?" she asks.

Ron's barely opens his mouth when Hermione suddenly seems to notice him. "You!"

Ron spreads his arms out and offers her a small smile, which does nothing to appease Hermione as she begins to punch every part of him she can reach, "You complete arse Ronald Weasley!"

I'm slowly coming back to myself, it feels less like I'm detached. My body's beginning to move when I tell it to. I'm still only vaguely aware that I should probably break them apart before they end up not talking for weeks. Though the quiet would be nice, the way my head's beginning to hurt. I'm pretty sure it's my head and not my scar, anyway.

"How dare you! You crawl back here, after week and weeks and _where's my wand?_ " Hermione shouts, rounding on me. I blink at her. Oh dear. Where would a wand be? I start to pat myself down, trying to find a wand in one of the pockets. I've definitely got a headache.

"You lost it? Harry Potter! Do you even know where it is? My wand-" She breaks off, her shrieks edging towards hysterical, and I can tell she's panicking. Ron produces his wand for some reason, as though he's holding up an example for us to see what they look like. Hermione charges at me, at hunt for her wand herself but stops short, brow furrowing.

"Harry?" she asks, in a small voice, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I say again. Oh look, I think that was coherent. Should say something about the locket as well, it's meant to be safe - destroyed. That's all that - silly. Hermione's right their in front of me.

She tentatively reaches out to me, turning to Ron to ask what's happened. I'm beginning to feel sick, the headache's like a film either side of my eyes, it's not like my scar when it hurts. A pain and discomfort that's inside of me, pushing against my vision, my head and making me jus want to curl up in a ball. I'm only vaguely aware of Hermione leading me to the bed and tucking me in. Her hands are shaking.

"What happened?" she asks again, nervously.

I'm drifting off, embracing that weird in between state my mind wants to be in. Their voice hover somewhere above me.

"I dunno," Ron says, "He was in this pool when I found him. Like he was under the imperious, just staring at the locket. Tried shouting to him, but he didn't hear me."

Not you didn't I want to say. I would have heard shouting, I'm not deaf. I could hear the locket just fine, it was soothing.

"We need my wand back," sighs Hermione, "Do you know where he left it?"

"Yeah," says Ron, "He left everything on the side of the pool, didn't want to get them wet, I suppose. I didn't think. Just wanted to get him back."

"Why was he in the pool in the first place though? Did he drop the locket?"

"There was a sword at the bottom," says Ron, "Thought it might be Gryffindor's, you know, the one we've needed?"

"Yes, I know, Ron," Hermione says tersely. "But how? The sword wouldn't just appear like that. It's probably just some sword that's been dropped there. But we can't leave the locket. It's too important."

Important. Yes, the locket is important, I think. That's another way of putting it. I can hear the soft voice clearer now in my head, the headache fading as I drift away into it.

"We need to get it," Hermione says, "I think Harry should be okay?"

"He'll be fine," says Ron, "You're the best. I don't want you to go alone I- I think he might've - you know - if I hadn't..."

Hermione's gone silent and all I can think of is blissful silence as I hear the flap of the tent closing. I fall asleep, the silence is so nice and the quiet whispering sends chills up the back of my neck. I don't know how long I sleep.

It's still silent when I wake up. My head feels almost clear now. I touch my scar and it feels nice. It's still there, a gentle pressure. Ron. Hermione. I should find them. I struggle to my feet and pull the robe on properly. I'm painfully aware that I don't have a wand. I don't know how long I've been asleep. Maybe they'll be back soon. But no, there's something in the pit of my stomach I can't quite place. They were getting the locket, weren't they? I should go to the pool, help them. I was the idiot who got us into this.

I walk towards the pool, as cautious as I can. There. There's Hermione just standing by the edge of the pool. They're fine, I shake my head and smile, worrying over nothing. But she's somehow more beautiful than usual. She sways on the spot like a solid ghost, an odd smile on her face like the one Hermione never wears. I approach her, not sure what's going on. The locket.

The locket's right there on the ground, under her feet. Why would it be there? It's almost as if she's coming out of it. I'm fixating on her eyes though, a lovely shade of burgundy. Probably red in the right light. Her head tilts to one side and I follow her gaze to the locket. I bend down, not breaking eye contact with her and pick it up, cradling it to my chest.

She's still there, for some reason. Why? I've got the locket. That's all that exists that's all that matters. She spares a glance at the still water of the pool and smiles. She disappears. I'm careful to keep the locket close to me. The gentle pressure in my head tells me it's okay.

I wander back to the tent. I need to keep the locket safe. It's all the exists.

The word horcrux wanders through my head, searching for something to cling to.


End file.
